Dancing with the devil.
by Nightbird
Summary: Implied m/m slash!!!! Spike remembers part of his past.


Title: Dancing with the Devil.  
Author: Nightbird.  
Distribution: SHL, anyone with my permission, otherwise ask.  
Disclaimer: Joss owns them, I just like to play god with their universe.  
Couple: A/S - implied M/M slash - don't read if that offends you!  
Rating: PG - 15, I guess. Dunno. language and themes.  
Summary: Spike remembers part of his past.  
Notes: Exams draw near, this is most probably the last fic for a month or  
so. Exams mess with my mind. Also my first attempt at slash-y type fic. I am  
a serious ASS (Angel Sired Spike) supporter so don't bother telling me it  
was Dru.  
Feedback: would make my night a little warmer. Flames will be mocked and  
deleted.  
Dedication: Stryx, Soul', Gunbunny, Omega H and Megan.  
To Tairis who's most likely to have kittens with this, just remember T, I'm  
never sweet & innocent. To the Slash Goddesses - Gunbunny, Omega H, Odie,  
Cathryn & Saber Shadowkitten.  
  
Pass me that beer and I'll tell you a story. Who's the story about? A  
dashing young man and the devil with the face of an angel that seduced him.  
Yes, you're correct, 'tis Angelus and myself.  
  
I can still remember the night I was sired. It was a beautiful night, the  
moon was high and I was flushed with success, my pockets jangling with  
weight of stolen coins. I'm quite the pickpocket, smooth tongued and quick  
fingered. It never bothered me whether I picked up a young gent or a shy  
maiden for a night of pleasure but I digress. I was doing well, the picking  
were rich and I was cocky, a little too cocky you could say.  
  
I was riding high on my success when I made the mistake of deciding to  
relieve an Irish man of his wallet. The mistake that was to change the  
course of my life. I managed attract his attention, Angelus was always one  
for a pretty face and he bought me a drink. I could read his intentions a  
mile away. He had a pretty blonde thing with him but she didn't seem to mind  
him picking me up, hell, she seemed to enjoy it.  
  
I spent an entertaining evening drinking with him and we both retired to  
bed. He's a wonderful lover, slow and tender or fast and hard, I didn't  
care. He was unusually cold though.After we'd both given into lust and the  
bed was rumpled and we had scratches trailing down our backs he pulled me  
close and fell asleep. I'm not normally one to stick around, it tends to go something  
along the lines of have sex, nick wallet or jewels and leave my victims to  
their slumber, but this was different I didn't want to move.  
  
I ended up waiting till he rolled away from me. I felt so cold when he did.  
Strangely enough I never noticed his heart didn't beat, but I guess the  
drink had addled my brain. I slipped out of bed and picked up his forgotten  
clothes from their places scattered around the room, searching for that  
wallet I'd seen when he'd paid for the many rounds of drinks. I don't  
remember much after that. I guess he wasn't really asleep. His hand  
connected with my face and I saw myself from somewhere far away, jerking  
back. He loved to mark me. Show others that I was his. The golden boy.  
  
Then silence. He was just holding me, I could feel his arms around me, my  
back pressed against his chest. I was strangely comforted. I knew God  
wouldn't save me now. I was dancing with the devil and the waltz would never  
end. Sharp teeth grazed my neck and I could feel the ridges of his true face  
against my neck. It didn't hurt much, I was still floating above the two of  
us when those teeth, the ones that brought me such pleasure sunk themselves  
into my neck. The blood was leaving me along with my life. Memories passed  
though my mind, Mama, dying slowly from typhoid, Papa, the day before the  
mine collapsed.  
  
Angel of death and his willing victim, what a picture we must have made.  
Eternal light against the dark but the light would become tarnished over  
time, the dark would see to that. He forced my mouth open, holding his  
bleeding wrist to it. I automatically suckled at it, the dull, copper tang  
of his blood passing down my throat, ironically, some of that blood is my  
own. It's last thing I remembered before the darkness took over and any  
remaining life fled this empty body.  
  
When I woke up we were in a carriage, I was jolted upright a dull, gnawing  
hunger deep in me. He fed me, not many sires do that it cause siphons off  
some of their power. The blonde from the bar was there. She seemed proud of  
him and me. Anything we did after that was tainted with blood and darkness.  
It's a wonderful life, no rules, lots of killing and great sex.  
  
And still the waltz plays on, the two of us dancing, never stopping.  
Remember you never stop when you dance with the devil.  
  



End file.
